


What is This?

by Wolfscub



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Embarrassment, Erotica, F/M, Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent, Orgasms, PWP, Toys, Vibrator, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2015-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-29 18:59:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3907078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfscub/pseuds/Wolfscub
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki's curiosity gets the best of her . . ..</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just something that came to mind while cursing the fact that I had no charged batteries lying around during a moment of somewhat less than quiet desperation . . . :)
> 
> [source](http://jackvesna7.tumblr.com/post/57001079579) for the Loki gif

"What is this?" came a perfectly calm, quiet question asked in an impossibly deep, sexy voice from behind me.

Unfortunately, I didn't know he was there.

Startled out of years of my life, heart in my throat, I shrieked and screamed, "Jesus Fucking Christ!" into my phone and thus, simultaneously, my sister's ear.

Hell, I didn't even know he was _home_ \- but then Loki didn't much deign to go through doors like normal people did - since he was not a normal person in any way, shape or form - unless he was with a Midgardian like me. Before I so much as moved, I pressed the phone to my chest and began to take him to task, growling, "How many fucking goddamned times to I have to tell you to fucking goddamned well announce your-" as I turned around to see just what was in his hand and it shut me the fuck up quicker than almost anything else in existence could have.

I think I was closer to fainting now than I had been when he'd practically killed me by surprising me with his presence.

Without thinking about it, as I stared at the object like it held the secret to life, I put the phone to my ear, muttering distractedly, "I gotta call you back," then I absently tucked the phone into the breast pocket of my t-shirt, where it never lives but I didn't feel as though I could look away enough to put it anywhere but there.

If he had been pointing a loaded gun at me, I would have been no more horrified than I was right then.

I couldn't take my eyes off what he was holding in his fist like it was a fork and he was going to pound it on a banquet table.

[](http://s1008.photobucket.com/user/phillyloo/media/Pink_zpsmgozgvcl.jpg.html)

My Splendiferous Spoon.

Fuck.

Me.

Normally, I live alone.

Loki was living with me only temporarily while the rest of the Avengers were off doing something that - for whatever reason in his infinity wisdom - Fury had decided that Loki shouldn't be in on. But he didn't trust Loki to live on his own and not try to take over the world again, so I got stuck with him.

He wasn't really a bad roommate - he was gone a lot doing I didn't much are what, as long as he didn't get into trouble - but when he was home, he was a handful.

Like now.

Christ on pogo stick, _why_ couldn't I have put the fucking thing _away_ once I'd rummaged - somewhat urgently, granted - through the junk drawer to find three _working_ double A batteries -

Because my sister had called, that's why.

Somehow I knew that, as usual, this was all _her_ fault . . .

Only I would never, ever, ever be able to _tell her_ so, dammit, or I'd never here the fucking end of it!

Of course, all of this internal discourse was just a method of stalling and not answering Loki's perfectly logical question.

He stood there, looking quizzically at the item for a moment, then at me, then back again.

What could I tell him?

What _should_ I tell him, for my own ease of mind and, much more importantly, so that I wouldn't die of embarrassment?

"It's an immersion blender?"

"It's an ice cream scoop for those who are into molecular gastronomy?"

"It's a gardening spade for a very tiny garden?"

It's . . . It's fucking _anything_ but what it _IS_!!

"Do you not _know_ what it is?" he asked after I'd just stood there, dumbstruck, for an inordinately long amount of time.

I wiped my palm over my face, rubbing from forehead down over my eyes - as if I could wipe away the sight of him like that - all the way to the point of my chin, then down my neck, wondering if I could possibly manage to strangle myself . . .

Instead, making an impulsive decision, hoping to catch him off guard - not knowing if that was really even possible - I decided to go with the "best defense is a strong offense" strategy. So I stalked determinedly the few steps towards him, my eyes on the goal as I reached out to grab the thing out of his hand, hissing angrily, "Give me that."

What was I thinking?

He was much, much too quick for me to be able to do that and all my hand caught was air.

And I knew that I had made a fatal error, because now he knew that I wanted it.

Sighing heavily, then clearing my throat, not looking at him _or_ the subject of my humiliation any longer, I instead grabbed a sponge, wet it and began to clean my already clean counter.

"I have to say that your very interesting reaction to this . . . whatever it is . . . has piqued my curiosity." 

Lovely. Just what I always wanted to do.

He came to stand next to me, holding it out in front of me, directly in my line of sight. "What. Is. It."

Finally, I grabbed a hold of myself. We were not giggling pre-adolescents, either of us - especially him, supposedly. I decided that the straightforward, clinical approach was probably best, since it didn't seem likely that he was going to back off any time soon.

I stopped cleaning, wiped my hands off, and half turned myself towards him, boldly meeting his eyes as I spoke. "It's a vibrator."

The word, of course, didn't have any particular connotation to him. One eyebrow rose. "And what does it do?"

My _own_ eyebrow went up. "It . . . _vibrates_ ," I answered, my tone conveying that that should have gone without saying.

My snark was not conducive to Loki's patience, such as it was. "To what purpose?" he snapped impatiently.

I was _not_ going to blush - _not gonna, not gonna, not_ -

But I could already feel the heat building in my neck and knew when it hit my scalp, so there was no hope for it. He would never let it go. So I turned around to face him, crossed my arms over my chest and leaned back against the counter in a relaxed position I definitely didn't feel. "I can see we need to have yet another conversation about personal boundaries, but fine. I'll tell you its exact purpose - sexual pleasure. Particularly female sexual pleasure. Are you happy now?"

For a second, he frowned, then that shit eating grin that I fucking hated more than life itself spread across his face, lighting it up more than it usually was. 

"So you use this to attain your woman's pleasure?"

My eyes closed slowly as I exhaled what was supposed to have been a deep, cleansing breath. 

But he wasn't about to allow it to be that, in many different ways.

So I said fuck it and met his eyes defiantly. "Yes."

"Because you . . . " he paused and did seem to actually be trying to be careful of his words, ". . . do not have a mate?"

I rolled my eyes. "That's a typically male response, and no, not because I do not have a man, but it kind of makes it that I do not _need_ a man."

Loki's dark brows furrowed. "So you _prefer_ it to a mate?"

I could not believe I was having this conversation with him, but in some ways, I supposed it could be considered it to be almost educational for him. "In some ways, yes. Someone else's fingers - or tongue - can get cramped or tired. This always available, it doesn't lose interest - except when it needs batteries -"

"Oh, a power source?" he asked, looking to see where that was.

"Unscrew it at the end," I said. What the fuck. We were already well down the rabbit hole.

He took the thing apart then put it back together. "How does one activate it?"

"Press the bottom in once for low, twice for high."

He did, once, and we both watched the tip of the spoon wiggling furiously back and forth obscenely, and then he pressed it again, and I saw a smile cross his face that was vastly different from any other I'd seen on him in the degree of its pure, unadulterated unholiness.

[](http://s1008.photobucket.com/user/phillyloo/media/lokismile_zpscgslolmx.gif.html)

I decided that bold was working better than . . . well, bold was working, kind of, anyway, so I put my hand out. "Okay, you've seen how it works. Please give it back to me."

We had been working on "please" and "thank you" - or, more accurately, I had been working on him to try to get him to use them when he didn't feel he needed to, since we were all peasants, well beneath his exalted station.

"Oh, but that is where you are wrong, my dear," he corrected all too smoothly.

It was never a good thing when Loki decided to use an endearment with anyone, ever, in my experience.

And good God - or rather, bad God, very very bad God - he was using that silky, purring, I'm going to get my way one way or the other tone that, if I had been wearing panties, they would have become instantly so wet they would have made a _splooshing_ sound as they hit the floor - 

_Son of a bitch._

With all of this - _my_ \- mindless hullaballoo about the vibrator, I had completely forgotten that I had been going to use it if the phone hadn't rudely interrupted me.

So right now, I was standing in front of Loki in a big, slouchy t-shirt that one of my exes had left behind.

And nothing else.

At least I tended to favor tall men, so it covered me to just above mid thigh and nothing was showing.

But _everything_ was vulnerable.

Especially to him.

Even more so when he continued, as he slowly closed the small gap between us, still holding the happily buzzing toy, saying, "I have seen only _half_ of how it works."

My phone buzzed just over the nipple of my left breast, catching Loki's attention and I could see him working on the idea that my phone vibrated, too . . . 

"It's not the same thi -" I began, reaching for my phone.

But I was too late.

It was already magicked it to his big hand, but his eyes were on the nipple that had - of course - peaked beneath it.

As they usually were around him, but I very carefully never dressed in anything that was in the least form fitting around him, so he would never get the chance to notice.

I tried to explain, "But that's not -"

To my horror, things got worse as he punched the "accept" button on the phone to say - in the same damned unmistakably bedroom voice - to whoever it was that had called - probably my sister, who was not known for her patience - "She will have to call you back later. Much, much later," he rumbled downright threateningly.

He ended the call and grabbed the hand I had extended for the toy, somehow expecting him to act completely against type and do what he should have rather than what he wanted to. I felt a whooshing of air around me and felt my ears pop as if there had been an air pressure change when I hadn't gone anywhere, and then, suddenly, I wasn't in the Tower any more.


	2. Chapter 2

I had no idea where I was, but I had a feeling it wasn't Earth, and he wasn't supposed to be planet hopping under any circumstances. I tried to step back from him, wanting - needing desperately - to put some distance between us before - but he was still holding onto my hand with one of his, the vibrator wiggling happily away in the other.

And the hungry look on his face told me that I wasn't going anywhere until he'd gotten a much more complete demonstration of its effect on female anatomy - specifically _my_ female anatomy.

He confirmed my assumption seconds later. Looking down at me from his great height and smiling at in a way that did not reach his eyes - as it rarely did - he commanded, "Now you will demonstrate for me the _second_ \- and much more interesting - half of how this device works when it is used for its intended purpose . . . " moving towards me in such an intimidating manner that I automatically began to step back, away from him, my eyes trapped by his and not paying any attention to where I was going - where he was guiding me - until I literally fell back onto an enormous bed.

One of those big hands flicked slightly near his hip and my t-shirt was gone, then vibrator was suddenly buzzing away in my hand.

"Now," he snapped, taking a seat in a comfy chair that hadn't been there a second ago and that was positioned right in front of the end of the bed where I lay as he leaned forward eagerly, forearms braced on his muscular thighs, as if he was at as sporting event he was quite keen on and didn't want to miss any of the action.

I tried to sit up but I couldn't - although I also couldn't see that anything in particular was holding me down. I could move around in place, but I couldn't make any move that would result in me getting out of the position in which he had put me.

"Loki, let me up immediately! And give me back my damned t-shirt, too! This is highly inappropriate behavior!"

He cocked his head a little to the side. "But you are always telling me that I need to learn more and care more about Midgardians and their lives. Well, you are a Midgardian, and this is something in which I have a _great_ interest!"

The lie fell out of my mouth without me even thinking about it, I'd learned to hide it so well. "But I have no interest in sharing this very intimate part of my life with you, and you cannot force me to do so!"

I mentally shook my head. Big, big mistake. Telling Loki he could not do something was a guarantee that he was going to do his best to accomplish it, even if it was something he didn't necessarily want to do.

And he _wanted_ to do this.

Son of a bitch. I was being held captive - naked - who knew where - by a horny Norse God, and there was zero chance that anyone was going to come to my aid.

Lovely.

Worse than that, the entire situation - either because of or despite the embarrassment factors - was horribly titillating to me - especially the Loki part. I wasn't really worried that he was actually going to hurt me, unless you counted dying of embarrassment. I had carefully kept my distance from him - even being a bit more antagonistic and prickly than I probably would have been with anyone else - because I _knew_ that I couldn't trust myself around him - that if he so much as snapped his fingers in my direction, I would have dropped to my knees before him without so much as a thought.

Hell, _he_ was the reason I had been going to use the spoon in the damned first place, not that I would ever let him know that. He was to have been the star of the fantasy I was going to spin in my head while I . . . 

And now that star was - fuck me, he was getting up!

He ended up stretching himself out on the bed next to me, lying on his side, reaching out to brush the ends of my hair away from my breasts, revealing them further to his heated gaze. "And I think, my dear child, that you forget exactly to whom you are speaking. I most certainly _can_ force you - in my choice of ways - to comply with my wishes. Although I would much prefer it if you would simply obey me of your own accord."

"Fuck off, Loki," I growled.

He gave me a questioning look. "Is it that you would prefer that I wield it for you? I can assure you that I would enjoy that almost as much as watching you apply it to yourself."

I closed my eyes.

Bad move.

As soon as my eyes were shut, he leaned over and took a nipple in his mouth.

My eyes flew open and I tried my best to push his mouth away from me, but it was like trying to push down a brick wall.

His fingers found the other tight, proud bud and began to tease it gently.

Fuck.

Me.

What he was doing felt too amazing for words, and I was rapidly losing the will to suppress the moans that were stacked one behind the other in my throat, clamoring to get out, to say nothing of how quickly he had me considering that doing as he asked wouldn't be such a horrible thing . . . 

Would it?

 _Yes, yes, it would!_ I had to remind myself. He was being autocratic and dictatorial and terribly God-like, trying to bend me to his will. It didn't matter that he hadn't really hurt me in doing so. He'd brought me here against my will, and was trying to coerce me into performing a sex act for him.

One that I had been going to do anyway, using him as its inspiration.

And now here he was, lying entirely too close to me, being that inspiration in real life.

 _Where was the bad in that really?_ my pleasure-addled brain asked.

"Loki," I began, trying to gather the tatters of my will around me defensively, like a cloak, but his name came out sounding much less like the stern warning I had been going for in my head than a breathy supplication.

"Yes, little girl?" he asked, leaving each nipple distended and swollen and aching as he began to trail just the barest tips of his fingers down the center line of my body very, very slowly.

"You - you," I swallowed, my throat parched from the panting, "you have to st-stop this." He was lying on one of my arms, but I brought the other up to rest my hand on the lapel of his armor, intending to push him away, but once it landed there I was too transfixed by the strength and firmness of the muscles that were so obviously lying just beneath and the warmth that was emanating from him to continue protesting.

And he smelled even better than I had thought he might.

I'd tried to stay as far away from him as I could, physically, because I thought that up close and personal he might be a tad overwhelming.

That was a horrible, tragic understatement.

Those fingers of his hovered above the area in which he had the most interest, not touching me at all yet, then I saw him part his index and middle fingers, as if he was giving my crotch the peace sign, and my legs began to part, not of my own volition and they didn't stop up until they mirrored the way Tom Hiddleston's looked when he sat down.

"Loki, no!" I whimpered at first, but he stifled my cries quite simply with his lips and didn't lift them again until he had arranged me to his satisfaction.

When he lifted his head, breaking the exquisitely, surprisingly tender kiss, he leaned back, and I somehow felt as if I couldn't move my eyes from his as that bold hand began to caress my thighs, starting with the outsides, not leaving out the sensitive backs of my knees, moving slowly, deliberately and avidly watching my every response as his touch got closer and closer to the area he had just revealed, but never quite touching it, moving up a bit to span my hips with his big fingers, tickling slightly over my lower tummy, exploring my curves and valleys as if he owned them, but still incredibly gentle.

Despite my protestations to the contrary, I was just about out of my mind when he finally touched me there, and it was to just barely brush his fingers over me from top to bottom, setting fires that blazed out of control everywhere they touched, until I began to try to arch my hips up against his hand, making him chuckle evilly.

"Not so unhappy any longer?" he asked teased, his mouth around a nipple as - after what seemed like forever - I felt those long, elegant fingers finally - _finally!_ \- settle over me, curling tightly against the fevered flesh he found there, holding me and grinding the heel of his hand over the place on me that wanted his touch the most, giving me scant, indirect contact that nonetheless had me gasping for more.

At any moment I would have begun begging, frankly. It was all I could do to retain some tiny portion of my dignity, but I also had to acknowledge to myself that it wasn't going to last very long in the face of what he was doing to me.

He had, with very little effort, reduced me to the writhing, mindless sum of my sensual parts.

And, as much as I knew I should continue to fight against what he was doing to me, I knew it was a lost cause, and that, instead of feeling violated or even outraged at this moment, I knew I was lost. I would have given anything I owned to get him to continue to fondle and caress those parts.

But no sooner had that thought come into my mind then he withdrew that magical hand, bringing it up to let me see what appeared in it.

The spoon.

I had pretty much forgotten its existence, frankly - I didn't need it now that I had him.

It came alive in his hand without him having to do anything to it, and I watched as he brought it down between my legs, settling it with alarming accuracy directly over my clit, making me jump and cry out.

He removed it immediately. "Did I hurt you?" he asked, seeming genuinely concerned.

Blushing furiously, I answered, "No, no, it's just that that is a very powerful instrument you're holding in your hand, and I - you've made me very sensitive."

He frowned at it fiercely, as if it had offended him. "I believe it is on its lowest setting . . . "

"Yes but, let's face it. Touching myself with that is wonderful and it makes me feel good. But having someone else touch me - "

Damn my blush!

"Finish your sentence," he prompted. Loki twisted his hand just slightly and the spoon disappeared. He settled his hand on my lower stomach, and, to my amazement, it was vibrating quite gently as it lay there.

My eyes went wide with the implications. "Fuck me - you can do that?"

His smile was much more genuine and less snarky than usual. "Apparently I can. I do not think I have ever tried to before, but it is relatively easy to do, and I do so wish to see you writhe in ecstasy and howl with pleasure. Bringing you to that by my own hand is infinitely more satisfying than doing so with an intermediary between us, anyway. This way I get to _feel_ you . . . "

_Oh my fucking God._

Almost - but not quite - literally.

His hand moved glacially towards my pussy, vibrating every area that it touched on the way, until he was cupping the entirety of me, making the whole of me shiver with an excitement I could barely contain.

The tips of his middle and index fingers found my entrance, and he growled as they were instantly bathed in my essence. "Exquisite," he breathed roughly so close I could feel his lips against my ear it as he spoke, moving to kiss me as his fingers - that didn't buzz annoyingly like every other vibrator I'd ever owned had - but rather fluttered and pulsated their way into the very depths of me.

And then he unfurled the big thumb he had kept curled against his palm and let it find its natural home nestled on top of my clit, as if it had always been there and always would be, claiming and surrounding and possessing that part of me as surely as his fingers occupied the rest of me, keeping the tremors within me at a much faster, more demanding pace there than the much slower reverberation he used on that tiny, eager nub.

That thumb, that he had made certain had received its share of my cream, proceeded to move lazily back and forth over me, as if he had all the time in the world, the vibrations enhancing my experience rather than overwhelming it, which sometimes happened to me with vibrators that could have much too heavy a touch for me.

But not Loki.

Damn, he was amazing!

Mindful of my partner's comfort - especially at first in a relationship - I always try to cum as quickly as I can. As I had mentioned earlier to Loki about while I used the vibrator, I understand that lips and fingers and whole hands can become tired and achy and downright numb.

He surprised me by noticing this almost immediately. "Relax, my dear. This is not a race, and I will not become fatigued in doing this for you - quite the contrary. I am exceedingly confident that I could outlast you by centuries. Let it happen without you hurrying it along." He smiled down at me, the first one I'd seen that actually _did_ reach his eyes. "Enjoy the journey - the destination - destination _s_ ," he corrected with a devilish grin, "are a foregone conclusion, I promise."

I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to do as he'd suggested, but my body took his words to heart and I found that I was able to let go more so with him than anyone else I'd ever been with - go figure.

My reward for having done so was a torturously slow build that had me questioning my decision - and my sanity - almost immediately. Loki did his part to force me to delay things, removing his hand at inopportune moments, leaving me growling my frustration with him and chuckling softly at it, still smiling as he brought his lips to mine and my hand to his chest as his familiar armor melted away beneath it and I could suddenly feel a small nipple beneath my palm, surrounded, as it was, by lean slabs of muscle.

Intrigued, I dragged my fingertips, and the barest edges of my nails, over that tiny nub, feeling a surge of pure satisfaction - of a different kind than the one I had just been in fervent pursuit of - flow through me as I watched his eyes drift shut and his face relax in pleasure.

I shifted a bit, somewhat surprised that I was allowed to, letting my hands learn his hard contours, moving gently over those broad shoulders, the veined forearms, and even up over his face, amazed that he remained docile beneath my touch for all of it.

"You have a wonderfully soothing touch."

Frowning a bit, I said, "That wasn't necessarily what I was going for . . . "

I could feel him smile beneath my palm as my fingers brushed carefully over his eyelids. "Yes, but it is greatly appreciated nonetheless, to be touched softly and in a manner that speaks of care and attention as opposed to feeling as if one is nothing more than a cock with legs and a bad reputation."

The absurdity of his description had me chuckling. On impulse, I let my hand drift further down than it had, cupping the part of him in question, leaning towards him for what I think was the first time ever, my lips millimeters from his, saying, "Teach me what you like - how to make you feel like you've made me feel."

Instead, though, I found myself tipped onto my back again as he loomed over me. "Thank you for that generous offer, little one, but this time is about you and I will not allow you to dissuade or distract me from my goal."

The hand that had been touching him was caught in his and drawn inexorably up above my head as I whimpered loudly, tugging just slightly against his hold, although I knew before I had done so that he was not going to let me go.

His finger beneath my chin tilted my head up so that I had to meet those dark, mysterious eyes of his. "I think it is about time for you to show me your pleasure," he rumbled. "I want to experience everything about it, and I will not allow you to show me anything but the full measure of it. There is no one here but us. I want to hear you beg me to stop and not stop in the same ragged breath, to watch your face contort from the power of it, let my mind fill with the sounds of you screaming my name in the agonizing ecstasy that I will bring you to."

I did exactly what he said I would - and more - as his free hand took its place between my legs again, only this time it was three big fingers that found their way slowly into me, stretching me inexorably and unbearably around them, pulsating wildly as they did so. His thumb was far from idle as he penetrated me, vibrating much less furiously, though, as that slickened digit flicked me back and forth, side to side, then dragged itself from top to bottom, stroking determinedly but still slowly, languidly.

I could feel the end building within me, trying to move and surge against him to hurry it along but he laughed softly at my efforts and held me fast. This would only happen in his time, and his time was torturously slow.

It was the longest build up to an orgasm I had ever experienced, and as those terribly intense feelings multiplied and became more and more powerful I began to feel more vulnerable than I had since this had begun, struggling against his hold on me as I felt overtaking and overwhelmed by what was happening- what he was doing to me.

He seemed to understand how I was feeling and did his best to soothe me. "You are so beautiful like this. Just let it happen. There is nothing to be afraid of . . . I will see you safely delivered through the storm to the other side."

Regardless of what he said or how I felt, there was no hope to stop it. He had brought me well past the point of no return. Every fiber of my being tensed and gathered, drawing even the tiniest bits of myself towards the area where his hand was working its magic on my most vulnerable places. I could feel his eyes on me as he watched me intently, his breath - which was nearly as labored as mine - puffing over my overheated skin.

There it was. That unstoppable tingle that he somehow recognized in me because his thumb on my desperate little bud drew very near to a stop, caressing me slowly as he continued to fuck me with all of the depth and breath he could manage with his fingers, drawing even that last, urgent, phenomenal bit out until I could no longer deny it.

And then he set all hell lose within my body as I could do nothing more than to clench and spasm and scream - free of any and all inhibitions, "Loki - Loki - no - oh God - oh - GOOOOOOOD-OH-GOD-OH-GOOOOOOOOOD - LOOOOO-KIIIIII!!"

A primal growl bubbled up in my throat as he continued to stimulate me, forcing me to wondrous, frantic peak after peak, coaxing me further than I had ever been before as I drown in my own rapture.

Those big fingers subsided somewhat reluctantly and I am unable to be anything but what I am - one big throbbing nerve ending, still contracting and whimpering and keening , my still very restless legs coming together on their own, the same way they had parted, my hand released by his as he continued to cup me gently and hold me tight against him.

"I can feel you still contracting against my hand. That was magnificent," he whispered.

I just . . . couldn't.

I couldn't do anything, couldn't really feel anything, still, but that which was beneath his hand, my hips still raising me into it as I trembled with reaction in the aftermath.

A warm blanket appeared over us immediately when he noticed how I was shaking, although it was pure reaction, really, rather than cold.

I was so lost within myself, so thoroughly and completely blown away that I was forever grateful that he didn't try to talk to me or make any other demands off me, because I simply could not have met them. I have no idea how long we remained that way, but he didn’t stir in the least until I did, letting me sit up but remaining close at my side as I did.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his hand on my back, looking more concerned about me in this moment than I'd ever seen him look about anything since I'd met him.

Still unable to speak, I nodded instead.

"Do you want to go back?"

More nodding.

In a flash, we were standing in the kitchen again, but my legs wouldn't support me. Luckily, he was right there next to me and I didn't end up in an ignominious heap at his feat.

Again, he held me until I pushed away from him, not the other way around.

"Thank you," I said awkwardly as I stood on my own, but his arms remained around me, not touching me, but there in case I wasn't as ready to stand on my own as I thought..

"You're welcome," he returned gravely and I suddenly realized that I wasn't at all sure what it was that he thought I had been thanking him for.

"But -" I began, my conscience beginning to nag at me again, unwilling to leave things between us on an uneven keel, even if it was going to make me blush furiously and it did. "What about . . . you?"

His smile was at once indulgent and risqué, somehow. "I am not one of your inexperienced, fumbling Midgardian males who is only after his own end. I will take my pleasure from you when and where I want to, and - in my experience - which I might remind you spans centuries - I have found that a bit of waiting makes the eventual culmination just that much sweeter." The indulgence left his smile entirely and it became purely erotic. "Perhaps that is something I will endeavor to teach you."

Shuddering, I turned away from him to head to my room to sleep for several years, then, on a sudden thought, I turned back to him.

"My spoon?" I asked, holding out my hand expectantly.

But I should have known him better, especially after what we'd just shared.

There was that annoyingly self satisfied grin back again as he advanced towards me with that sexy swagger of his. When he got to me, he pressed himself close.

I refused to let him cow me, although I didn't think that was necessarily what he was trying to do, and I stood my ground.

But he didn't touch me anywhere except to put a finger beneath my chin so that I had to look all that way up into his eyes as he said with the pure arrogance that only a God like Loki could have, "I do not believe you are going to have need of it anymore, my dear, for the foreseeable future . . . "


End file.
